It was an odd thing to say, lending more meaning and intimacy to the impromptu dinner than I’d considered.
“Well, how is it?” I asked. He’d eaten nearly half his plate already, so I was assuming I knew the answer to that one.
“You could give Deirdre a run for her money.”
I was absurdly pleased at the compliment, prompted though it may have been. He’d mentioned Ryker, though, and I wondered if he had him on the brain as much as I did.
“I hope you and Ryker can patch things up,” I said. “And I’m sorry he brought me into it. I’ve tried to tell him you’re just my boss, but …” I shrugged, at a loss as to what to say.
“Am I?”
“Are you what?”
“Just your boss.”
The blue of his eyes seemed deeper in the soft lighting as he gazed at me, waiting for my answer. We were sitting across from each other, but given how small Ryker’s table was, he was still too close.
“What do you want from me, Parker?” I asked tiredly, setting down my fork. My appetite was suddenly gone.
McClane began to growl, easing up onto his haunches as he stared into the darkened hallway. My panicked gaze went from him to Parker, who was already up, gun in hand.
“Call off the dog, Parker. It’s me.” A man stepped around the corner and I recognized him as the CIA agent who’d been undercover as an assassin for Viktor. His real name was Sasha.
Parker relaxed, sliding the weapon under the waistband of his slacks at the small of his back. He’d discarded his tie and turned back the cuffs of his shirt and I couldn’t help the thrill of feminine appreciation for how sexy he looked doing that. Which was wrong wrong wrong, on so many levels.
“Relax, McClane,” Parker said, setting his hand on top of the dog’s head. To my surprise, the canine obeyed, his ears coming up and his tongue hanging out as he looked curiously at the new arrival.
“Sorry for coming in the back door unannounced,” Sasha said, still eyeing the dog warily as he approached us. “Keeping as low a profile as possible.”
“Is anyone watching this place?” Parker asked, leading him to the living room. I followed, taking a seat on the couch. Sasha sat in a chair and Parker settled next to me. McClane plopped his butt on my feet.
“Not that we’ve been able to ascertain, but it’s only a matter of time before they follow you—or her—here,” Sasha said.
“Any progress on finding out where Viktor is?” Parker asked. His thigh was pressed against mine and he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his spread knees.
“Not yet,” Sasha said. “He’s been expelled from all his contacts in Russia after how badly he messed up the ZNT deal. After how much money was seized and accounts frozen by us, it’s amazing they let him live.”
“So he’s a man with a vendetta and nothing to lose,” Parker said. “That’s not good.”
“Plus, he’s decided you’re to blame,” Sasha continued, nodding toward Parker. “The Russian Mafia stay in power for a reason. He’ll want to kill anyone who’s close to you, starting with Sage. And he’s more than capable of doing it.”
The words lodged in my brain like a flashing neon banner. I had no idea what to say. I felt like I was living inside a movie. But was I the heroine who couldn’t die? Or the tragic victim who’d be avenged?
I didn’t want to find out the answer to that question.
“So what are you planning to do to protect Sage?” Parker asked.
“We want to put her in protective custody, if she’ll agree.” Sasha looked expectantly at me, but I was already shaking my head.
“Not unless Parker agrees to go, too,” I said.
Sasha looked at Parker. “That can be arranged.”
“I’m not hiding out while that lunatic is tracking Sage,” he said.
Sasha sighed tiredly, leaning back in his chair. “Then what do you expect us to do, Parker,” he said. “I can’t make her do jack shit.”
Parker turned to me. “Sage, please—”
“Please what?” I interrupted. “I’m not doing it unless you do, too.”
“You know I can’t do that,” he said.
I shrugged. It was a no-brainer to me. I wasn’t about to go into hiding and let Parker take the fall.
“So what’s Plan B?” Parker asked.
“We have people working on tracking Viktor down,” Sasha said. “While he’s unable to get assistance from his former compatriots, he does have ties to organized crime in the U.S., too. Even here in Chicago, I’m sure.”
“He’ll have to have gotten the weapons and people he used last night from somewhere,” Parker said.
Sasha nodded. “We’re working on it. We have some intelligence, sources on the inside here in Chicago. If he contacts them for supplies or crew, we’ll know about it.”
A former KGB guy with nothing to lose and an ax to grind. That didn’t sound bad or anything. McClane must have sensed my disquiet because he whined a little, turning to rest his head in my lap. I petted him absently as I thought.